


Doctor, Doctor (Blooming Rose Mix)

by zillah1199



Series: Doctor, Doctor [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zillah1199/pseuds/zillah1199
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders works part time at the Rose</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor, Doctor (Blooming Rose Mix)

“Wait, did you say the Blooming Rose?”

“I did.” 

“Anders is working? At the Blooming Rose?”

“That he is. He's raising money for the clinic. Templars raided the place again. We got him out in time, but the tin hats still busted up a lot of stuff. He's had to do it a couple times before. Usually works out pretty well. Says he's doing a week there. Lusine's selling advance tickets. She didn't count on the crowd last time. Things got a bit...rowdy.” Varric tapped the deck of cards on the table. “You in or out?”

Hawke tossed his hand on the table. “Out. I've got to run to the Rose.”

An hour later he was back, staring mournfully into a large tankard of ale. 

“Sold out.” He took a long pull. “I can't believe they were sold out. Already.”

“That fast, huh? Blondie's a popular guy. Magic hands and all that.”

“I wouldn't know.” Hawke grimaced, then brightened. “Say, Varric, you wouldn't...”

“Not a chance, Hawke.” Varric patted the ticket in his pocket. “This baby's all mine.”

“I'll give you fifty silver.”

“Nope.”

“A sovereign.”

“Still nope.”

“I'll tell Bianca.”

“She's got her own ticket.”

“That is so unfair.”

“You know what they say. Early dwarf gets the stone and all that.”

 

“No.”

“But Bethaneeeee...”

“You're too old to whine. And the answer is still no.”

“I'll do your laundry.”

“Is that a threat? Because I've seen the way you do your own laundry, and definitely no.”

“Are you even old enough to get into the Rose? Come on. Let me buy your ticket or I'll tell Lusine you're too young.”

Bethany's hands crackled with electricity. “Try it and I'll zap your arse while you're sleeping.”

“I hate you so much.”

Bethany smiled and made kissy faces at him.

 

“Fenris...” Hawke cut down the slaver that jumped between the two of them.

“No.”

“But Fenris...” Hawke wiped his daggers on the jerkin of the man he's just stabbed.

“I do not have any tickets to sell you, Hawke.” The elf paused to rip out the heart of the slaver's blood mage associate.

“You don't? You must be the only person in Kirkwall besides me who couldn't get one. I heard even the Arishok sent someone down to the Rose to buy one for him.” 

“I have no desire to visit the Blooming Rose.” 

Hawke grinned hugely, delighted to know that there was one less person he had to fight for Anders' attention. “That's very mature of you Fenris. I'm glad to know you aren't taking advantage of Anders while he...”

“Besides, I have no need. Anders tends to me weekly in his clinic.”

Hawke made faces behind Fenris' back all the way home to Kirkwall.

 

“I'm sorry Hawke, it's just that I could only afford the one ticket, and if I sell that to you, I won't have any, and Anders does such wonderful things with his hands, you know? I mean I'd like to help you out, I really would, but I've been so tense lately and...”

“It's okay Merrill, really.” 

“I really am sorry.”

Hawke patted her had and wondered why he felt so sorry for her, when it was starting to look like he was the only one in Kirkwall who wouldn't be getting a chance with Anders at the Rose.

He sighed tragically. All he could think about lately, Anders. At the Rose. He'd only partaken of the 'services' there once or twice. Before he met Anders. The place was expensive, and after he'd taken one look at the gorgeous, passionate, selfless, and also gorgeous former Warden, well...

But that didn't stop him from wanking himself silly, imagining Anders splayed out on satin sheets, all legs and pale skin, naked, hard and beckoning. Beckoning, apparently to everyone in Kirkwall but one sad, miserable, besotted and sex-starved Garrett Hawke. He sighed again.

Merrill's face scrunched up in pity. “You might ask Isabela. She has five tickets.”

“Five! Maker, I hate my life.” He put his head down on the table. Five tickets. For Anders.

At the Rose.

 

“A sovereign.”

“Three sovs.”

“One sovereign, fifty silvers.”

“Two and a half.”

Hawke glared. “That's robbery. You only paid a half a sov each.”

Isabela smirked and wiggled her fingers at him. “Pirate,” she reminded him.

“Fine.” Hawke slapped two sovereigns on the table.

 

He showed up at the Rose fifteen minutes early. He'd bathed thoroughly and put on his best clothes, such as they were. He wondered if the daub of cologne had been a bit much. He looked around nervously. He had the last slot for the day, but there were still patrons here for the other workers and a few just for the drinks. Luckily Gamlen was working at the docks. He didn't fancy sitting there waiting while his uncle sneered at him.

Sebastian strolled down the stairs, looking uncommonly smug and relaxed. The brother smoothed his hair into place and nodded at him, gesturing up the stairs to let Garrett know the healer was available. Garrett suddenly wanted to punch him in the face. 

Inside the upstairs room, Anders was waiting. Not in the bed, as Garrett had hoped, but drying his hands on a small towel. His hair was loose and shining in the candlelight, a silk shirt and trousers accentuating his lean body. Garrett was absolutely certain he'd never seen the healer wearing those particular clothes before. He would definitely have noticed something that ...clingy. He gawked.

Anders looked down at himself and chuckled. “A bit much, I know, but they like me to fit in with the, ah, décor while I'm working. You just couldn't imagine some of the outfits they offered me.”

Hawke's eyes glazed over for a minute. He could imagine. Oh, could he imagine. 

“Maker, I can't believe I'm finally here.” he was babbling awkwardly, visions of Anders in _oufits_ still swimming around in his brain. “You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get a ticket to see you. I finally got Isabela to sell me one of hers.”

Anders winced. “That couldn't have been cheap.”

“Well. Pirate, you know. " He chucked weakly. 

“Hawke, you didn't need to do that. Just come by the clinic any time. I'll do you for free. Fenris comes by once a week.”

“So he says,” Hawke hoped he didn't sound too bitter, imagining Anders and Fenris twined together on one of the healer's cots.

“I'd have him come by more often if he weren't so stubborn. That elf is one big ball of tension. But no, he'd rather suffer than admit he has needs a little physical attention just like the rest of us lowly mortals. Still, I'd be remiss as a healer if I didn't do something to help him out.” He smiled. “Well, I don't suppose you're here for small talk.” Anders patted a linen covered table by the wall.

“Oh. Um. Just like that, I guess. Over there? Not on the...” somehow he couldn't quite get manage the word 'bed'. As in he and Anders. On the bed. Together.

Anders shrugged. “If you want. The table's really better, it's hard to get enough purchase on the bed. Especially if you want me to work you really deep.”

“Deep? Oh, yes, please. Very deep. Very, very deep." Hawke liked the idea of deep. LIked the idea very much. "Especially in one of those outfits. I did not just say that. Tell me I did not just say that.” Anders gave him a funny look. Maker this was embarrassing. He fiddled with the laces of his trousers. ”What do you want me to take off?”

“Up to you. Some people just take off their shirt. Isabela takes off everything. Even when she doesn't need to.” Anders chuckled “You can leave your pants on if you're nervous.”.

”Nervous?” Hawke squeaked “No, why would I be nervous?”

“I can work around it. Really it's all up to you. I want you to be comfortable. This should feel good.” 

Hawke liked the sound of that. Oh, did he like the sound of that.

“Even with a full body massage," Anders continued, "I can still work through your clothes. No need to be self-conscious. It's not like I haven't seen all of you at one time or another anyway.”

Massage.

Massage.

Hawke wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Of course it was a massage. What was he thinking? He stripped and climbed onto the table. Better than nothing. And he had paid two sovereigns , after all.


End file.
